


Empty Garden

by Angels_Heap



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Has Been Described as Meta, Not really a songfic, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angels_Heap/pseuds/Angels_Heap
Summary: In a post-Combine world, a restoration project and a cassette player pave the way for some serious introspection. As we all know, music has a way of bringing long-hidden emotions to the surface. There is some laughter, there are some tears, and Barney wins a bet.
Relationships: Gordon Freeman/Alyx Vance
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted elsewhere in 2011 and has since been revised fairly extensively. The overall plot remains largely unchanged from the original version.

Sweat poured down Alyx Vance's face as she concentrated on the task at hand. She was vaguely aware of the sun burning her through her t-shirt and several ominous-sounding thumps in the distance. She grit her teeth and tightened her grip on the railing—she only needed to hold on for a few more seconds...

“Gordon, where the hell are you?” Alyx ground out through her clenched teeth. For a moment, there was no answer, and then a sudden crash startled her and caused her to fall from her precarious position on the ladder, knocking down an open can of paint as she stumbled. 

After standing up and dusting herself off, Alyx turned around to find Gordon Freeman poking his head through the doorway with a sheepish look on his face.

“I... uh... I found the other ladder,” he announced, looking contrite as Alyx pretended to seethe at him. After a moment, she couldn't help but laugh at the physicist’s horrible timing as she righted the overturned paint can before it made too much of a puddle on the tarp that covered the wood floor.

“You owe me, big time,” she declared, still feigning annoyance, despite a grin that almost certainly gave her away. Gordon hesitantly grinned back and busied himself with setting up the new, sturdier ladder, kicking the paint can back over in the process. Alyx swatted him with the handle end of a paintbrush, rolling her eyes and chuckling at her friend’s trademark clumsiness. She walked over to a window, poking her head out for some fresh air while Gordon cleaned up the spilled paint.

Alyx smiled. Since the destruction of the _Borealis_ and the subsequent abandonment of Earth by the Combine, things had been... better. Not great, but better. Whatever had been inside the legendary ship had held the figurative key to the Combine's last hope of restoring order— _their_ order—on Earth. Many of the Combine's forces, along with large quantities of their resources, had been destroyed along with the ship.

Shortly afterwards, the rebels had united for one last push to eradicate most of the remaining Combine institutions, further loosening the authoritarian empire’s grip on their world. Cut off from the Combine’s alien leadership, their human and trans-human troops had been left disorganized and relatively defenseless against well-coordinated rebel attacks. It had been three months since then, and so far, there had been no sign of a Combine resurgence.

The Combine's return, in fact, was supposed to have been rendered scientifically impossible. Several of the scientists at White Forest had managed to patch the remaining inter-dimensional rifts in such a way as to ensure that their malefactors could not infiltrate the planet again. Alyx didn’t completely understand the science behind it—all that technical portal stuff was more in Gordon’s wheelhouse than hers—but she was finally starting to allow herself to believe that they were truly safe. 

With the threat of the Combine no longer hanging over everyone's heads, the survivors of the ordeal were slowly trying to find a way to get things back to normal... whatever 'normal' was. Alyx, Gordon, and a few of the other rebels who had remained at White Forest were in the process of trying to restore the nearby White Forest Inn to livable standards, in order to provide housing for the seemingly never-ending influx of refugees that made their way to the Resistance hub.

Supplies were scarce in these difficult times, but given that the personnel at White Forest had contributed significantly to the orchestration of both the Combine's demise and the current relief effort, they had an easier time than some finding and receiving materials.

Alyx was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of Gordon clearing his throat behind her. She turned to catch the physicist staring at her, his brow creased with concern. 

“You okay?” he asked softly. Alyx blushed involuntarily and quickly averted her gaze, hoping that Gordon wouldn’t notice. Even after all they'd been through, it was still a bit of a shock to hear Gordon speak, and she often felt flustered when she found herself the center of his attention.

Gordon was still a man of few words, but at least now he was a man of _some_. Despite being hailed as the One Free Man and holding a position of high esteem in the eyes of most of humanity, Alyx frequently observed that Gordon appeared to be more intimidated by other people than they were by him.

He tended to keep to himself and only seemed to loosen up in the company of a handful of people he felt close to. Alyx felt honored to be included in Gordon’s inner circle and working closely with one him on this new project had only increased her awareness of just how much she enjoyed his company. 

Realizing she had drifted off into her thoughts again and that Gordon was now looking at her with one eyebrow raised as if he was considering the possibility that she might need a psych evaluation, Alyx shook her head and rolled her eyes in a way that she hoped came across as humorously self-deprecating. “Yeah... just... thinking, I guess,” she offered, shrugging. “Sorry to freak you out.”

Gordon, seeming satisfied with her answer, turned away from his companion and stepped back in order to scan the large room. Alyx followed his gaze and admired the job they had done painting the walls by the inn’s front staircase a warm shade of off-white.

She remembered her first visit to the inn all those months ago, and how she had remarked that it must have been nice once, just before all hell had broken loose. This remodeling work had been helping her heal from that trauma, in a way, and she was excited to eventually see the building fully restored to its former glory. 

As the pair continued to appreciate their handiwork in silence, Alyx slowly became aware that the whole building was eerily quiet. Save for the sound of the wind moving through the trees and the occasional bird call, it sounded as though they had been abandoned.

As if he had read her thoughts, Gordon spoke again. “It's getting hot out... a lot of the others were complaining and decided on their own that it was break time. They, erm, kind of took off without us.” Gordon ended the sentence abruptly and fiddled anxiously with his hands, looking at the floor.

Alyx smiled as she watched him; Gordon did this often, pausing to gather his thoughts if he planned to utter more than a couple of sentences. It could be frustrating to watch, at times, but in quiet moments like this, she found it oddly… adorable? She liked that she’d gotten to know Gordon well enough to pick up on his little quirks, and she sometimes wondered if he noticed little things about her as well.

While she patiently waited for Gordon to continue, Alyx leaned against a not-yet-painted wall, eager to give her legs a slight rest. A few seconds later, Gordon broke the silence. “I guess we're stuck here for a while,” he acknowledged with a shrug. “Unless you want to hike back down to the base, I think the others left some food around. We could just take a break here. If you want to, that is.”

“Yeah... sure, that sounds great, actually,” Alyx replied, suddenly feeling famished. “If you can find a snack, I'll see if I can find somewhere to relax where we won't die from paint fume inhalation.” As soon as the words had left her lips, Alyx mentally kicked herself for making such a tasteless crack that had sounded a lot cleverer in her head. To her relief, a slight smile tugging at the corner of Gordon's mouth suggested that he'd found her comment at least somewhat amusing.

 _'Unless he's laughing at me,'_ Alyx thought with a sigh. Jokes about death were still a somewhat touchy subject for the both of them, but at least Gordon probably wouldn't have smiled if he'd been offended. Right?

As soon as Gordon nodded to establish that they were in agreement about taking a break, Alyx made a hasty exit through the nearest open door to scout a location for their impromptu picnic before she could put her foot in her mouth again.

She ultimately chose to settle down on the floor inside the covered porch-like area near the inn’s back door, taking advantage of the shade and fresh air. Alyx leaned her back against the wall and sighed, thankful to be off her feet. While this reconstruction thing was infinitely less exhausting than fighting monsters and blowing up mysterious research vessels, it had still been a long day. She appreciated the opportunity to close her eyes for a moment while she waited for Gordon to catch up.

* * *

Having sealed all the open paint cans and located an insulated box with a couple of sandwiches preserved inside—probably headcrab, as indicated by “RIP Lamarr” and a large smiley face scrawled across the brown paper bag in what appeared to be Barney Calhoun's handwriting—Gordon headed back down the inn’s grand staircase and stepped outside to look for Alyx. He figured she'd probably gone to one of the outbuildings or to the nearly finished back of the Inn, where the paint fumes were indeed less obnoxious.

As he walked, Gordon's mind wandered to the fate of Lamarr. Considering that she hadn't been seen since the launch of Dr. Magnusson's rocket, the eight-and-a-half-pound weight discrepancy that Dr. Kleiner had noticed suddenly made a lot more sense.

The poor scientist was still grieving the loss of his pet, though Gordon couldn't quite understand why. Kleiner had always had a soft spot for animals—on more than one occasion, Gordon had had to dissuade him from housing stray cats in their shared office at MIT—but adopting a headcrab as an emotional support animal seemed objectively extreme by any reasonable standards. Although Gordon had never despised Lamarr to the extent that Barney did, she—er, _it_ —was still a headcrab, and the vast majority of headcrabs that Gordon had encountered had either been attached to a zombie or been actively attempting to turn him into one.

In light of the current well-organized and relatively successful efforts to eradicate all Xen lifeforms from Earth, Gordon figured it was just as well that Lamarr had accidentally died by suicide before someone else had deliberately exterminated her… if not for her own sake, then at least for the sake of Dr. Kleiner’s heart, as well as the sanity of everyone else who had to work with the eccentric scientist. 

Because meat was scarce, the slaughtered headcrabs were being eaten by the surviving humans in enormous quantities. Though he occasionally worried about what would happen when the headcrab supply finally ran out, Gordon had to admit that they could be eating worse things in the meantime. Headcrab tasted kind of like chicken, so that wasn’t too bad.

Laughing quietly to himself at the memory of Barney's undisguised glee upon learning of Lamarr's disappearance after his return to White Forest, Gordon spotted Alyx resting on the porch.

 _'I’m glad Barney made it back to us at all, Lamarr or no Lamarr,'_ he thought as he sat down beside her. _'It was starting to look like we were never going to see him again...'_

As he mirrored Alyx’s posture and rested his head against the wall behind him, Gordon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes were closed, and there was a small streak of white paint on her cheek, which Gordon felt a sudden urge to wipe off. He shook his head, not entirely sure where that thought had come from.

A few seconds passed before Gordon regained his composure and gently shook his friend’s arm. Alyx startled awake, and Gordon couldn't help but crack a smile in response to her momentarily disoriented expression.

“Oh... you found me,” Alyx said, sounding slightly flustered. “Sorry, guess I... dozed off there for a minute.” Gordon chuckled softly and handed her a sandwich, enjoying the sound of her laughter as she read Barney's handwritten tribute to his favorite Xen life form.

They both unwrapped their sandwiches and ate in silence, suddenly fully aware of just how tired and hungry they were. After devouring most of his sandwich, Gordon relaxed and stared off into space, allowing his thoughts to wander back to the events of the night before.

* * *

“ _New shipment of stuff from City 15 just came in,' Barney called, poking his head through the doorway of the staff room. “Might want to take a look, there's all kinds of crap in here. Not sure exactly where it all came from, but...” His voice trailed off as he retreated back down the hallway._

_Gordon glanced over at Dr. Magnusson, who was already rising to his feet. “Well, since it appears I will not even be able to finish a snack in silence,” he grumbled, “suppose we should go take a look at whatever Calhoun's all excited about. Coming, Freeman?”_

_Gordon nodded and followed the irritable older scientist. When they arrived at the loading dock, they found Barney digging through a huge crate of what appeared to be mostly electronic parts. There was a small pile of objects behind him that Gordon assumed the former security guard had deemed 'interesting'._

_Ignoring Magnusson's rather obnoxious comparison of Barney's rummaging to a squirrel looking for his nuts in the spring—as if anyone really remembered squirrels anymore, let alone their food-storing habits—Gordon took a closer look at Barney's recovered... artifacts, for lack of a better word._

_Among the assorted wires, switches, and contraptions, Gordon noticed a larger object that looked like it had speakers. Curious, he leaned down, pulled it out of the pile, and turned it around in his hands. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that Gordon's initial hypothesis was correct—it was a cassette player._

_The small device brought back a flood of memories from Before... his childhood in Seattle, his years at MIT, relaxing after-hours at Black Mesa... Gordon realized with a start how long it had been since he'd actually heard any kind of music, and how much longer it had likely been for everyone else who hadn’t been… wherever he’d been… for nearly two decades._

'Suppose that's just one more thing the Combine took from us,' _Gordon mused, momentarily depressed by the thought. He carefully set the player down and joined Barney in searching through the crates._ 'C'mon,' _he thought,_ 'nobody keeps a cassette player around without tapes.' _He also wondered how_ this _, of all things, had survived the Combine rule, but he was no longer one to question miracles._

_Sure enough, after a few more moments of searching, Gordon came across a partially crushed cardboard box that made that familiar, nostalgic rattling sound when picked up. Eagerly ripping it open, he began to search through its contents. Barney, having finished combing through a different box, turned around to face Gordon, and his expression broke into a wide grin that Gordon imagined matched his own._

_“Hey, so there_ are _tapes to go with that!” Barney exclaimed. He, too, began digging through the box, eager to see what treasures it held. Not all of the tapes appeared to be intact, but several had, indeed, survived. They contained music that many of the surviving rebels had grown up with... mostly artists from the 1960s, '70s, and '80s. Still grinning madly, Barney and Gordon gathered up the tapes and ran back to the staff room to share their discovery._

 _With the help of an equally enthusiastic Dr. Kleiner, Gordon and Barney managed to take over Magnusson's precious loudspeaker system and soon had one of the tapes playing throughout the entire base. That night, everyone had fallen asleep to voices and songs that they hadn't heard in over twenty years... and that others had never heard._

_Some laughed, some cried, but it was the first time, not counting the Resistance effort, that Gordon could remember seeing so many people moved—perhaps united, in a way—by one common thing. He, like many others, had gone to sleep smiling for the first time in ages._


	2. Chapter 2

Gordon could feel another grin coming on as he recalled the joy the music had brought to his friends and colleagues at the base, and for once, he was almost too content with life to feel self-conscious about expressing emotions. _'It really has been too long...,'_ he thought idly, getting nostalgic again.

Playing in the back of his mind was the last song Gordon remembered hearing before he'd drifted off to sleep the night before: Elton John's _Empty Garden_. It had been a long-time favorite of his parents, though he had never gotten a chance to ask why before... well, the end of the world. Hearing it again had brought back many vivid memories of his life before The Incident—some good, some bad, but all having been forcibly repressed for quite some time now, for the sake of his sanity during the chaos.

As he had been born in 1975, Gordon had only been a few years old when John Lennon, to whom the song was dedicated, had been assassinated, but he vaguely remembered the ripple it had created throughout the world. Shaking his head, he felt a pang of sadness at the thought of a promising life ending so suddenly and tragically.

Further reflecting on that thought, Gordon found himself contemplating the post-Combine view of death and comparing it to the way the media had sensationalized Lennon so many decades before. While it was true that John Lennon's death had been tragic... somehow, the amount of attention it had received seemed strange now, when humanity had become so used to seeing people senselessly slaughtered every day of their lives that they appeared to be nearly unaffected by death.

Was it sad that celebrities had been so... worshipped... Before, or that death was so commonplace now that most humans had learned to put up an emotional wall in order to survive, knowing that allowing themselves to think about their loved ones could cause a momentary lapse and lead to their own demise? Gordon sighed, then supposed it was just as well that Lennon had... died... long before the Combine invasion. For a man so interested in peace, it would've been a disaster too unfathomably difficult to comprehend. Not that it had been much easier for anyone else, of course.

Gordon suddenly found himself caught off guard by his own imagination, laughing out loud as a brief burst of insanity conjured up a mental image of The Beatles performing “All You Need is Love” in the plaza of City 17, possibly a desperate final attempt to restore peace through music. With perhaps... striders in the background, and a nice Breencast going on over their heads. Oh, and maybe a gunship or two firing at them, for good measure.

Alyx looked up from her sandwich to stare at Gordon as if he had lost his mind, and he abruptly stopped laughing, feeling ashamed. It seemed that Alyx's dark sense of humor that she often relied on to cope with difficult situations was rubbing off on him... or maybe this was just his brain adjusting to the novelty of no longer being constantly stressed? His mental image really hadn’t been funny... at all. Gordon was also quite certain that if there had been any mind-reading ex-hippies nearby, that brief vision would have been viewed as downright sacrilegious and punishment would have been swift and severe. He allowed a small chuckle to escape at that thought... at least that was slightly funny. Well, maybe.

Remembering Alyx's confusion, Gordon sat up and turned towards her. “Eh, sorry,” he offered sheepishly, not quite meeting her eyes. “My imagination got... carried away for a second.” Something flashed across her features, and Gordon belatedly realized how badly that statement could be misinterpreted.

He froze, unsure what to say to put Alyx at ease. “I mean... not... um,” he stammered, exasperated with his own inability to communicate. “I was just... I remembered something funny. Sorry.” In response, Alyx pursed her lips and Gordon held his breath, wishing he could discern what she was thinking. After a beat, she relaxed and nodded once, seeming to accept her friend’s vague explanation of his weird behavior, then abruptly turned away and took another bite of her sandwich.

Gordon inwardly groaned and allowed himself to wallow in momentary self-pity. It was just his luck that after struggling to navigate childhood, college, and graduate school with selective mutism and pretty severe social anxiety, he had _finally_ found a good psychiatrist through his Black Mesa-provided health insurance… and then two weeks later, he’d pushed a cart into a laser and destroyed civilization. That was just the kind of luck he had, which was a shame, because he’d probably be a much better public symbol of hope and resilience if he could still fill that long-since-expired Prozac prescription. 

Although Gordon wasn’t inclined to admit this out loud, the enormous pressure associated with being a symbol for the Resistance—and especially the accompanying expectation that he would be able to give inspirational speeches at the drop of a hat—was really starting to wear on him. He knew his taciturn demeanor probably made him come off as distant, or worse, perhaps a bit holier-than-thou, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to speak more than a few words to most people, no matter how much more they wanted from him. 

_'Of course, Alyx isn't most people...'_ Gordon cut off that train of thought quickly, before he could get emotional about one of the few people in his life who rarely pressured him to speak. He didn’t want to do or say anything to further embarrass himself after his recent gaffe.

Alyx had been his closest friend, to say the least, throughout this latest chapter of Gordon’s ongoing nightmare, and he was determined not to let his developing feelings of non-platonic attraction drive him to do something that might irreparably damage that friendship. Especially right now, when they’d only just started to heal from everything they’d been through and she was still so emotionally vulnerable. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and also, Gordon was pretty sure he wouldn’t have made it this far without Alyx. He couldn’t risk losing that lifeline.

Casting a glance at the last few bites of his headcrab sandwich and deciding that he wasn't really that hungry anymore, Gordon closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, intending to sleep.

_What happened here,  
As the New York sunset disappeared?  
I found an empty garden among the flagstones there..._

Gordon smiled, allowing the song to play through his head. A montage of memories passed through his mind as he recalled the familiar tune… his parents' reactions to Lennon's assassination... listening to the car radio on the way to... school? work? the store?... the first time he had gotten blackout drunk, drowning his sorrows with Barney after a disastrous date with a Black Mesa security guard... _'Let's not go there right now,'_ he mentally chastised himself, surprised at how much that memory still stung and trying not to think of Alyx, relaxing comfortably just mere inches to his right.

Idly, Gordon wondered how Elton John had felt when he wrote the song. It was clearly written in memory of his dear friend, and of course, Gordon could sympathize with the loss. Several million... billion? times over, if he considered every lost human being to be a dear friend, in a way.

He tried to push the thought of the countless people whose deaths he'd witnessed, some of which he'd directly or indirectly caused out of his mind... he could think about that later. As for _Empty Garden_ , Gordon had always viewed the song as an anthem of sadness, but with some hope mixed in—a tribute, as it was intended—which he figured was what Elton John and Bernie Taupin had meant to convey. _'Not unlike the situation we're in now...'_ he thought, feeling oddly philosophical all of a sudden.

… _Who lived here?  
He must have been a gardener that cared a lot,  
Who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop,  
And now it all looks strange..._

Well, the Earth certainly did look strange, with its nearly empty oceans and disturbing shortage of native wildlife... and people, of course. Gordon supposed the “gardener” could be likened to the God whom many had accused of abandoning His people when the Combine arrived, but of course, Gordon had never been particularly religious. He had never attempted to change the views of another, but his interest in science had presented too many facts and theories about the universe for him to put much stock into the idea of a spiritual deity running things instead.

Since waking up from his... sleep?... in City 17 several months before, Gordon had quickly learned that it was much easier to rely on his own wits for guidance than it was to look to an omnipotent being that may or may not exist. He also had difficulty understanding how an all-knowing, all-loving God could allow His people to be slaughtered... His animals and plants to be driven to extinction... His oceans to be drained... His Earth to be picked to the bone by hostile invaders.

 _'Wasn't that exactly what God was supposed to protect us from?'_ he thought, sighing and remembering why religion had never been his thing. It made his head hurt, while science made total sense. Usually, anyway.

_… It's funny how one insect can damage so much grain..._

_'It is indeed,'_ Gordon mused. _'One experiment gone wrong and the whole world goes to hell...'_ Thinking of insects brought to mind the image of the Combine advisor, and Gordon shuddered. _'That's another thing,'_ he thought sadly. _'Step off a lift and thirty seconds later, someone you've looked up to for your entire professional life is gone.'_

He fought back a sudden, surprisingly strong urge to cry as he relived the moment of Eli Vance's death with disturbing clarity. Gordon had developed a great respect for Eli when they had been colleagues at Black Mesa and he had grown especially close to him after spending so much time with his suddenly grown daughter so many years later. _'I couldn't be prouder of you if you were my own son...'_ Eli's voice echoed in his head.

The period of time immediately following Eli's death had been incredibly difficult for everyone, especially Alyx. Gordon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed that she appeared to be dozing off again, a slight smile playing across her resting face. He looked away, gently pushing his glasses back up on his nose. Something had changed in her that day... she'd never given up, but there was a small part of her that Gordon knew would always be missing.

He silently mourned their loss... of Eli, and so many others, and had a sudden flashback to right afterwards... when he had cast aside his reservations about physical intimacy and awkwardly hugged Alyx, rubbing her back and letting her cry in his arms until Dr. Kleiner and the others had found them... but he pushed it away, sitting up and sighing with irritation at himself.

It seemed wrong to think about that now, and Gordon figured he'd just secured himself a special room in hell for allowing himself to consider that in any way a _good_ memory. _'And give him one with_ extra _fire, Satan,'_ cracked the insane little voice in Gordon's head that he assumed was also responsible for his disturbing Beatles vision. Vexed, the physicist closed his eyes and leaned back again, trying to ignore his sudden awareness of how close Alyx was... that only a few more inches, and she would be leaning on his shoulder...

… _And what's it for,  
This little empty garden by the brownstone door?  
And in the cracks along the sidewalk, nothing grows no more..._

_Who lived here?  
He must have been a gardener that cared a lot,  
Who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop,  
And we are so amazed... we're crippled and we're dazed  
A gardener like that one no one can replace._

_'I suppose not,'_ Gordon thought, going back to his God metaphor. If there ever had been a God, Gordon was pretty sure He was gone now, and whatever influence He had had over the Earth would be sorely missed. _'Not that anyone can really blame Him for getting the hell out of here as soon as He realized what was happening...'_

Certainly, many people had resorted to the most drastic actions to stop the living nightmare, and Gordon fought a rush of sadness thinking about their fates... their lives wasted. Granted, he hadn't been a witness to the suffering for twenty years, and he had a hard time imagining how his closest friends had made it through, but he had never considered... suicide. He had always held on to a small hope that things would get better... and they had, he noted, frantically searching his mind for an example of this that didn't involve the young woman resting beside him.

His train of thought turned sharply and suddenly to his family, and Gordon found himself wondering what had become of them. He remembered, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, that his brother John and their parents had been vacationing at the time of the resonance cascade... in eastern Europe, though he couldn't remember exactly where, nor had he ever figured out exactly what City 17 had been called before the Combine.

John had been excited about his first overseas trip, and he’d called Gordon for advice as to what to pack—and to rub it in that Gordon didn’t have enough vacation time banked to join them—just a day or two before everything had gone to hell. At the time, Gordon had been secretly thankful to have an excuse not to spend another week of his life being dragged along on guided tours of _every single art museum_ in a foreign country, but in retrospect, his life might have been a lot easier—albeit shorter—if he’d gone on that family vacation.

In a moment of selfish—or perhaps it was selfless—emotion, Gordon found himself almost hoping his family had... taken matters into their own hands early on. The possibility that he had unknowingly encountered them... old bloodstains that decorated the streets of City 17 like finger paintings, zombies that he had had no choice but to destroy, stalkers in the Citadel... it was too much to bear. He fought back tears, blinking several times, trying to calm himself.

_And I've been knocking, but no one answers,  
And I've been knocking most all the day...  
Oh, and I've been calling, oh, hey, hey, Johnny,  
Can't you come out to play?_

“Gordon?” Alyx's voice pierced through his thoughts, and he wondered if he'd been talking or... crying?...

“Hey, sorry,” she continued hesitantly, “you were just, uh, humming.” Gordon involuntarily sighed with relief, thankful that he’d kept his composure and that Alyx didn’t seem to be too bothered by his interruption of their comfortable silence. He turned to look at her, and to his continued surprise, she was smiling. 

“Elton John, right?” she asked, her grin widening as they made eye contact. Gordon nodded, surprised she’d been able to recognize the tune from his undoubtedly off-key humming. He heard her sigh deeply and her gaze dropped to her lap as her smile faded.

“My father used to love that song,” she murmured, “and I guess it just reminded me of him.” She suddenly seemed to be blinking back tears, and Gordon scooted slightly closer to his friend, preparing to comfort her. They’d never spoken about their last grief-fueled embrace, and Gordon wasn’t even sure Alyx remembered it, but he was prepared to offer the same again if necessary. However, Alyx appeared to quickly regain her composure and seemed content to stare at her shoes, so Gordon turned away and did the same.

After several drawn-out minutes of complete silence, Alyx spoke again. “What was it like,” she asked, “y'know, Before?” Her voice contained a sort of breathless excitement, like Gordon imagined he would hear from a child begging for a bedtime story... if he had spent much time with children, anyway.

Gordon hadn’t been close to many friends or family members who had kids prior to the resonance cascade, and the suppression field hadn’t been down long enough for any new babies to be born yet. As a matter of fact, the last small child Gordon could remember interacting with had been Alyx herself, but he decided not to dwell on that at the moment. It made his hyper-awareness of her proximity to him seem even more awkward, with perhaps a hint of creepiness.

Gordon took some time to think before providing an answer to Alyx's question. Even though ‘Before’ felt like it had been about six months ago to him, as opposed to two decades ago for everyone else, it was hard to decide how to summarize normal, boring, _safe_ early twenty-first century life to someone who likely had very few concrete memories to help her contextualize his description. 

Tons of adjectives came to mind— _bright, overwhelming, loud, exciting, crowded, free_ —but when Gordon finally spoke, he settled on “different.” “There were lots and lots of people, and the world had almost anything a person could want,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. “Everywhere you went, there was art and music to brighten up your daily routine, and even though work took up a lot of time, most of us still had hobbies and spent time with loved ones after-hours. People danced and partied and went to movies and museums and stores...” He paused, collecting his thoughts.

“Looking back, though,” Gordon continued, sighing, “it looks like it took a tragedy that nobody saw coming to make people realize what they took for granted. It seems silly now, how much time we spent worried about little things, putting material possessions ahead of real experiences, fighting just for the sake of fighting… you know, not really appreciating that we were living in the most technologically advanced, relatively democratic society in the history of human civilization while it lasted.”

Gordon took another breath before summarizing, “The world was amazing back then, Alyx. There was so much to see and to do… so many different nations and cultures… but I think a lot of people had lost sight of what mattered and then it was suddenly too late, you know?” Gordon was aware that he sounded a little bit like a right-wing news pundit lamenting how degeneracy and corruption were destroying society, but at the same time, he didn’t want to romanticize pre-apocalypse life. He wanted those who had survived to reflect on their past successes and failures in order to build something better.

That said, however, there were certainly a lot of things he missed. After another pause, a sudden grin brightened Gordon’s features as he continued excitedly, “I'd give anything to go back, though. To go to a movie...”—actually, Gordon had never been much into movies, preferring to spend most of his time studying, but it was an experience he'd wished he'd spent more time enjoying—“... eat hamburger made out of something that doesn't turn people into zombies, play stupid pranks on Barney, swim in the ocean, go to a concert, call my family, go for a nice, long walk in the park in the fall when the leaves are changing color...”

Gordon trailed off, suddenly acutely aware that he was babbling. Alyx, meanwhile, looked somewhat stunned—Gordon realized after a second or two that that was most likely the longest string of words he had managed to put together in her presence since she'd known him—but she recovered fairly quickly.

“I barely remember it,” she murmured. “The Combine... the Resistance... it's what I grew up with. What the world used to be like... it still sounds so different that I can't really imagine it. My dad used to tell me stories about what life was like... Before... but I’m sure there was so much he never got around to telling me, and now he—”

Gordon’s heart nearly broke as Alyx choked back a sob, suddenly overcome with emotion again. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over hers in an effort to provide some modicum of comfort, though he knew the gesture was woefully inadequate in comparison to the intensity of his friend’s grief. 

Alyx glanced up at him, seeming surprised, but she managed a small smile that almost reached her eyes, despite her tears. For a moment, Gordon froze; he was glad that his presence was reassuring, but he wasn’t sure where to go from here. He also knew his concern was intensified by feelings deeper than friendship, and he didn’t want to inadvertently cross any boundaries.

Before Gordon could figure out how else to respond, Alyx wordlessly scooted closer to him until their outstretched legs were almost touching, before gently resting her head on his shoulder. Despite the cloud of grief surrounding them that was almost palpable, Gordon felt suddenly alive. Slowly, he laced his fingers with hers and leaned back against the wall, savoring the feeling of her skin touching his and hoping he'd made the right choice.


	3. Chapter 3

Alyx wasn't sure how long she and Gordon had been sitting inside the porch, or how much time they had left before something inevitably broke the spell that had left them resting against each other in companionable silence. Having regained most of her composure after a short crying spell, Alyx found herself waiting for the other metaphorical shoe to drop. She was comfortable for the moment— _very_ comfortable, as a matter of fact—but they couldn't stay here forever.

 _'Not that that would be completely horrible...'_ whispered the little voice in the back of her head. Alyx willed herself to keep from reacting to that thought, worried that any small movement on her part would scare Gordon back into his shell.

She'd noticed recently that the physicist seemed to be particularly friendly with her as he became more social in general, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this particular encounter was going to end badly. Despite becoming considerably more vocal and even revealing a sense of humor as of late, physical and emotional displays of... affection? still didn’t appear to be Gordon’s thing.

He’d held her together—almost literally—in the aftermath of one of the worst experiences of her life, but he’d never said a word about the incident in the weeks that followed, and Alyx wasn’t sure to make of that. She’d considered thanking him for being there for her, but she could never find the words, and she figured maybe Gordon was embarrassed about his uncharacteristically public display of compassion, or perhaps he just didn’t want to wallow in his own grief. She supposed she could respect that.

Gordon still seemed very haunted by what they had all been through, which was to be expected, given that he had played a starring role in much of the carnage and he’d known some of the Resistance leaders since before Alyx herself had even been _born_.

 _'He's been getting better, though,'_ Alyx thought, remembering the first few weeks after their return from the _Borealis_ mission. Though she had suspected for quite a while that Gordon hated his HEV suit with a passion, it had been several days before he had finally managed to bring himself to remove it for more than a few minutes at a time.

Despite the fact that some of the former rebels seemed to think differently, as she often overheard during their late-night conversations, Alyx thought Gordon looked better without the suit. In civilian clothes, Gordon looked more... human, and less like a character in one of the old comic books her father had kept for her to read. Besides, he was clearly better suited to wear a lab coat than an HEV suit, though Alyx had to admit that he didn't look too bad in his current paint-streaked white t-shirt and worn jeans, either.

Then of course, there was the gravity gun, which Gordon had finally decided to stop carrying around a few days after he ditched the suit. The final straw had occurred when Alyx had walked in on Gordon trying to pour himself a glass of water by holding the pitcher with the gravity gun. She had apparently startled him, causing him to hit the device's primary fire and launch the full pitcher through the window opposite the kitchen counter and directly into the lap of a quickly enraged Dr. Magnusson.

She barely managed to avoid laughing out loud at the memory—not surprisingly, the ensuing confrontation had been hysterically funny, at least from her point of view. That had been the end of Gordon's attachment to the gravity gun, thankfully, and Alyx hadn't seen him holding any sort of weapon since then, though she imagined he still slept with his crowbar by his bed.

Alyx couldn't blame him for that, really, since she still slept with her gun beside hers. She let her mind wander for a moment, then blushed as she banished an image that her overactive imagination had conjured up out of nowhere. She vowed not to think the words “Gordon” and “bed” in the same sentence for a while, praying that Gordon couldn't sense what was going on in her head.

Alyx bit her lip, thinking. She'd been afraid to fully acknowledge that Gordon acted differently around her and contemplate the significance of that fact, figuring that a man who could have his choice of almost any woman he wanted would be more interested in a quiet scientist-type like himself, but perhaps their current situation changed things.

 _'Then again,'_ Alyx thought, _'who's to say this means he's interested in me? Maybe he just feels sorry for me. Heck, is he even thinking about… getting together with someone right now?'_ She couldn't remember Gordon ever having expressed romantic interest in anyone during the time she’d known him, and although she’d heard a few stories about Gordon’s earlier dating life, nobody had ever mentioned a girlfriend, boyfriend, or any serious love interest.

For reasons Alyx doubted she would ever understand, Gordon still seemed to be 27 years old, despite the fact that people who had been around his age when he worked at Black Mesa were now in their forties. She couldn't decide if that was creepy, or if it was some... lucky? twist of fate that she should just go along with. Then again, considering how comfortable and safe she felt being this close to Gordon, she figured it couldn’t possibly be _that_ creepy. Especially given that she suspected Gordon was just as confused about his youth as everyone else around him, though he usually hid it well. 

Aside from some confusing signals from Gordon himself, the only other evidence suggesting that Gordon might be somewhat interested in her came in the form of well-meaning but embarrassing jokes from Barney Calhoun, who had eagerly taken over her father's job of periodically calling attention to her supposedly obvious crush on Gordon soon after his reappearance into their lives.

Alyx was accustomed to Barney’s off-color sense of humor after all these years, so she was usually able brush off his comments without giving them much thought, knowing that her old friend was simply pushing her buttons and would lay off if she seriously asked him to. Also, she liked to think that Barney probably wouldn’t put so much energy into this if he knew her crush was completely unrequited.

If that was indeed the case, Alyx suspected that Barney was likely subjecting Gordon to a similar ongoing comedy routine, knowing the former security guard’s sense of humor and the nature of his friendship with the quiet and easily flustered physicist. It seemed like this was an ordeal she and Gordon could bond over, if not for the fact that this would require them to acknowledge whatever possibly mutual feelings Barney was drawing on for inspiration. Then again, perhaps that was exactly what Barney had in mind.

Willing herself not to blush as she reflected on some of Barney’s more memorable quips, which occasionally featured the euphemistic use of the word “crowbar,” Alyx found herself wondering, instead, how Gordon was feeling about their current situation. As she focused on the warmth where her head met his shoulder and the strength of the hand that held hers, Alyx found herself suddenly hyper-aware of her own body.

She realized that after working in the sun all day, she probably didn't smell particularly great. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, and she also felt something flaking on her cheek—probably paint—and noticed that several strands of her hair had fallen loose from her headband. An intermittent breeze cooled her back where her shirt was starting to ride up, exposing a sliver of dark skin just above the waistband of her jeans. Alyx debated moving to pull it down, but she didn't want to ruin the moment. Not yet.

Meanwhile, as Alyx’s thoughts raced, Gordon seemed... inexplicably relaxed. Alyx could feel and hear his even breaths and though his pulse felt like it was racing at the spot where their wrists touched, he didn't seem disturbed by it. She was thankful that he couldn't seem to hear her heart, which was threatening to pound its way right out of her chest. As Alyx noticed her palms sweating, she mentally berated herself for acting like an awkward preteen with a crush.

 _'Get a grip, girl,'_ Alyx thought, irritated at her loss of control over her physical reactions. _'It's just Gordon. Any minute now, he's going to realize how weird this is, and he’ll get up and walk off and we’ll never speak of this again, just like last time something like this happened.'_ She involuntarily sighed, then cringed as she felt Gordon's head turn. _'Well, okay, that's one way to speed things along... nice one, Alyx.'_

Defying her expectations, Gordon didn't make any move to escape. Hesitantly, Alyx moved her head from where it was resting on his shoulder and looked up to meet his gaze, in hopes of gaining some insight as to what was going on in his head. Gordon’s impossibly bright green eyes locked on hers, and Alyx was pleasantly surprised to find that he was regarding her with an expression of affection and concern, as opposed to panicking, withdrawing, or judging her for turning to him for comfort as she had feared.

As Alyx sat frozen in place, captivated by the intimacy of the situation, Gordon reached up with his free hand and brushed her hair out of her face, before abruptly letting his hand fall back into his lap, his slightly worried expression suggesting that he was second-guessing the appropriateness of the gesture.

Encouraged by Gordon’s boldness, Alyx took a chance and gently squeezed his hand. Almost immediately, he squeezed back, and Alyx watched as his concern gradually morphed into an unguarded smile that she felt herself mirroring. Although she knew that she and Gordon were sitting just inside an open porch right next to a major roadway, she felt like they were off in their own little world, teetering on the verge of… something. Their earlier cloud of grief had been replaced by a not-unpleasant bubble of tension. 

Gordon was still staring at her, in a way that was intense but also somehow reassuring, and Alyx was momentarily startled when he tightened his grip on her left hand. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but closed it quickly, as if he had thought the better of it.

Suddenly inspired by the weight of the moment, Alyx decided to take another, bolder chance. She needed answers. Quickly, before she could allow herself to question her decision and risk losing her nerve, she leaned forward, closed her eyes, and gently touched her lips to his.

She felt Gordon hesitate for a second before he returned the kiss, leaning in closer and bringing his free hand around to rest at Alyx’s waist. They continued like that for a short time, slowly deepening the kiss, before they became aware of an urgent need to breathe and abruptly broke apart. As Alyx opened her eyes, she found herself face-to-face with a flushed but very content-looking Gordon, who no longer seemed to know what to do with his hands.

“You okay?” Alyx asked, unable to suppress a giggle at how… surreal the whole situation felt. Gordon nodded and finally rested his left hand on his knee, the other still gripping hers. “I’ve actually—I’ve wanted to do that for… well, for a while now,” Gordon admitted, and Alyx was relieved to hear verbal confirmation that her suspicions over the last few months had come from more than just wishful thinking. 

“Me too,” Alyx offered, just in case that wasn’t obvious by now, before reaching up to Gordon’s opposite shoulder with her free hand to pull him close and kiss him again. A long-forgotten and very pleasant feeling washed over her as Gordon made a soft sound at the back of his throat, and he didn't protest. Alyx let her body relax into the kiss, feeling content and complete for the first time in months.

* * *

For the first time in what felt like eons, the racing, near-constant chatter in Gordon’s brain dropped from a deafening roar to nearly a whisper. All thoughts of his trauma, his anxiety, his… employer fell away to allow him the rare luxury of fully experiencing an intimate moment with one of the most important people in his life.

On some level, Gordon was aware that he might face some… _unforeseen consequences_ of this choice at a later time, but on another, more immediately salient level, he realized how much he had _desperately_ needed this. 

Gordon had expended so much energy—reserves of which he typically had little to spare—trying to suppress his feelings for Alyx that finally acknowledging his attraction and finding that she reciprocated felt like a massive weight had been removed from his shoulders. He hadn’t been aiming for this to happen when he’d suggested they take a break together, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. It felt amazing to finally relax and do what felt natural, ambiguous threats from mysterious otherworldly figures be damned.

Over the course of the following minutes, or perhaps hours—Gordon barely registered the passage of time as his attention was focused elsewhere—they had shifted positions several times out of an increasingly desperate need for closeness. Ultimately, Alyx had ended up straddling Gordon’s lap as he leaned against the porch wall with his hands encircling her waist. As they kissed, her hands slowly wandered around his back... his shoulders... through his hair... _damn_ , it felt good.

They were so engrossed in their embrace, in fact, that they paid no attention to the sound of crunching gravel as a rickety pickup truck slowed to a stop near the inn. They also didn't hear the slight chuckle as the driver hopped out of the cab of the truck and slowly crept towards them.

“Greetings, lovebirds!” boomed a loud, friendly voice from somewhere above them, abruptly bursting their love bubble and bringing them back to reality. Both groaned as they took in the worn boots, the patched jeans, the flannel shirt… and finally, the grinning face of Barney Calhoun, towering over them and looking awfully smug.

“And to think,” Barney teased, still grinning, “Kleiner thought you guys would hold out another whole week! I cannot _wait_ to see his face when I tell him he lost the bet!”

At that, Gordon felt himself blush so deeply that he was surprised he didn’t burst into flames. Hesitantly, he turned to face Alyx, who looked torn between feelings of amusement and horror as she scrambled to disentangle herself from the compromising position Barney had caught them in.

As Alyx moved from his lap to sit cross-legged next to him, Gordon was silently thankful for the wet blanket effect Barney’s arrival had had on his arousal. It was oddly reassuring to consider that this interaction would, at the very least, fall short of its maximum potential for awkwardness. 

After a beat, Alyx spoke first. “There was… a bet?” she asked, still wide-eyed with indignation, and Gordon couldn’t tell if her shaking shoulders betrayed feelings of rage or barely suppressed hysterical laughter. 

Barney shrugged, seeming less inclined to continue gloating after his dramatic intrusion had clearly had the desired impact. “Just a few of us, y’know… nothin’ too extreme. Me, Kleiner, Magnusson,”—Alyx groaned—“Uriah,”—Gordon groaned—“and a couple of the newer scientists.”

Barney crossed his arms, defensive. “Look, we gotta have _something_ to break up all the monotony around here and watching you two interact is basically the closest thing we’ve got to primetime entertainment these days. Let us have this, alright?”

Having recovered enough to find his voice, Gordon felt compelled to ask, “Seriously though, why include Uriah, or any of the vorts? Have I not suffered enough?”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Barney responded in a goofy falsetto, feigning ignorance. Alyx quirked an eyebrow, clearly interested in hearing about Gordon’s apparent issue with the vortigaunts, as this was the first she’d heard of it.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Gordon retorted, suddenly feeling inclined to vent. “You have _one_ impure thought in the general vicinity of _one_ vortigaunt, and all of a sudden there are like 6 of them and they’re chanting words of encouragement and telling me where to find—” He stopped talking abruptly, belatedly realizing what he’d just admitted. Alyx cracked up while Gordon glared at Barney, who shrugged again, as if to say ‘hey, you walked yourself into that one, buddy.’

Sensing that he’d more than made his point and that dragging this out any longer would yield rapidly diminishing comedic returns, Barney decided to bow out. “Well, I'll be in the truck if you guys want a ride back to the base,” he offered. “It's getting late.”

Indeed, it was; the sun was starting to set behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the porch. Gordon blushed again and rubbed the back of his neck, realizing how long he and Alyx had been... going at it. A quick glance at her face revealed that she was most likely having similar thoughts.

After leaning down and clapping Gordon on the shoulder—a gesture that Gordon still wasn't quite sure how to respond to—Barney stepped outside, giving his friends some privacy. Once Barney had made it about halfway back to the truck, Gordon heard the former security guard mutter, “huh, and they seriously thought nobody else saw it coming,” followed by a disbelieving snort. It sounded like Barney had more to say after that, but the closing of the truck's driver side door made it impossible to make out his words.

Gordon stood up awkwardly, wondering what exactly he was supposed to do now. He was relieved that Alyx had a sense of humor about the whole thing, but it wasn’t clear what would happen next, and he didn’t like the uncertainty. Gordon pushed his glasses back up his nose—they'd been knocked askew at some point during their earlier activities—and hesitantly glanced over at Alyx again.

She met his gaze and giggled, but she didn’t seem to be laughing _at_ him, which was reassuring. After scrambling to her feet, Alyx stepped forward and enveloped Gordon in a hug. He hugged her back, relaxing into the embrace as that calm, secure feeling washed over him again. He could definitely get used to this, and he hoped he’d have plenty of future opportunities to do so.

“This was nice,” Alyx whispered into his ear, still giggling. “We should do it again sometime.” She loosened her grip on Gordon’s waist and stepped back to wink at him, before resting her head on his chest again.

“I’d like that,” he murmured in response, not wanting to risk ruining the moment by trying to elaborate. There would be plenty of time later to tell Alyx exactly how he felt about her, and how thankful he was that they’d both made it through hell and back together.

Gordon was jolted out of his thoughts by the insistent honk of the truck's horn, followed by Barney opening the driver side door and hollering “Alright, you two have sixty seconds to wrap it up and get over here, or you're walkin' back... some of us have places to be!”

Gordon chuckled as Alyx rolled her eyes, suggesting that she, too, knew Barney’s threat was most likely empty. Regardless, it probably _was_ time to head out. Nobody particularly enjoyed being outdoors after sundown anymore, even this close to the base, as one never knew what might be lurking in the darkness.

Once again, Gordon forced himself to let go of Alyx, struck by how strange it felt _not_ to be touching her now, when just a few hours ago, he had felt exactly the opposite. “Guess we should get going,” Alyx prompted, smiling as she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the truck. 

They quickly climbed into the cramped back seat, and Barney started the engine. Before shifting into drive, he turned around. “Think you can keep your hands to yourselves for about ten minutes? Don't corrupt my innocent mind,” he teased with a wink.

Gordon rolled his eyes. _'Innocent mind, my ass...'_ Alyx made a noise that suggested she agreed. Deciding that silence was the safest possible response, Gordon elected to close his eyes and try to finally take that nap he'd been going for earlier.

He smiled as his mind wandered back to his earlier philosophical song analysis. _'I guess this is the hope I'd always been hearing mixed in,'_ he mused. _'The world may still be comparatively empty, but...'_ Well, things were certainly starting to feel less bleak.

Gordon felt Alyx reach for his hand, and he sighed contentedly. _'It'll be okay, someday,'_ he thought as he felt himself dozing off. _'We'll make it work.'_

* * *

… _And I've been knocking, but no one answers,  
And I've been knocking most all the day...  
Oh, and I've been calling, oh, hey, hey, Johnny,  
Can't you come out, can't you come out to play?_

_Johnny,_

_Can't you come out to play_

_In your empty garden?..._

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted a not-insignificantly different version of this on FF.net in December 2011, which was slightly revised in December 2012 to halfway fix some of the most glaring characterization issues before being left to gather dust and sporadic pageviews for the next 7 years. 
> 
> When I decided to jump back into the fandom and move my earlier fics to AO3, I initially wasn’t quite sure what to do with this one. Even though I’m still very attached to the original premise and a lot of the original writing, this fic has also become a bit of an old shame over the years, as I’ve come to realize that my younger self basically took two very different ideas and attempted to smush them together into one narrative (with some pretty cringey characterization) in a way that only did one and half of them justice (at best). 
> 
> I still feel a tad conflicted about my decision to more-or-less rewrite several large chunks of this fic before uploading a version here, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt it had to be done. I can no longer stand the idea of leaving this thing out there as-is, but I know a decent number of people genuinely enjoyed the original version despite its faults, so I wanted to give it another go instead of scrubbing all traces of it from the Internet. 
> 
> So, here’s hoping that Empty Garden v2 holds up a bit better than v1.1 did when we look back on it another 5-10 years down the road. Constructive criticism welcome and encouraged. I really enjoyed revisiting this fic and I hope the updates did the original justice. Also, thank you to those who read and reviewed the original version, both for your encouraging words and for helping me figure out how to tag this behemoth.


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